Shades of Blue
by Distant Storm
Summary: Azureshipping fic. Trashing the hotel room because of it's color, check. Getting drunk at a bar, check. Finding a bartender who belongs to those exact eyes you love and hate so much, check. Apparently, shades of blue mean everything to Seto Kaiba.


Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Shades of Blue

Pairing: Seto/Tea(Anzu)

Rating: M for language and slight sexual implications.

Completed: 12:59 EDT; 3 July 2007

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It bothered him. Something about the color cerulean sincerly bothered him. Enough so, that the hotel suite he currently occupied had to be completely and utterly trashed, as if an American Rock 'n Roll band had thrown a fit because they didn't have a mint laying upon each pillow.

He made a mental note. There were no mints either, and that was not satisfactory.

Meanwhile, sitting amongst all the tatered tapestries and dismantled furniture, he pondered exactly the cause of his behavior. Ahh, he remembered. Something about those eyes. It had nothing to do with their color, personally, he liked most shades of blue. His eyes were a midnight blue, and many women who were nowhere close to his age loved the 'mystery' hidden in the eyes of their idol, Seto Kaiba.

The aformentioned idol rested his head in his hands, closing his eyes to think more in-depth. It was not the color persay, but in those eyes, _her _eyes, he realized, they looked better when they were that chilling color of ice. And they were always that way when she looked into his eyes. To everyone else, her azure stare was darker, heavier, and almost overpowering. Instead, when she was yelling at her, they were shades lighter, as if she were reflecting something. But what? Why were her actions and reactions so different for him?

A ferocious growl escaped his lips and he threw the cup of coffee sitting beside him at the wall, letting it smash into bits before resuming his thought process. Well, he thought, I am indeed different from those cave-men she considers friends. At the word, he clenched his fists. Bah. Who needed friends?

And yet, as he sat there on the plush carpet, looking at the ruined room, he decided that he could possibly use another hobby. All he did was work, work, work, insult Wheeler, and work some more. Occasionaly, he mused, he had to put down the porcupine-head's philosophies of 'you are an ancient priest, do not deny your destiny.'

At this thought, he spat at the chunk of wall that he had ripped out when pulling the phone line out of the wall. Feeling very much like a barbarian, he stood, turning slowly to assess the damage he had done. After rotating a full three hundred sixty degrees, he wrote a dignified note in the least number of words possible, left a generous check as if he were at a restaurant, and exited through the front door with his briefcase in tow. His limo, complete with another set of all the necessities he would need could be accessed when he found another hotel that was suitable for his almighty presence.

He strutted confidently down the streets of Manhattan as any other buisness man would, however his nature made him look even more authoritive and demanding than most could look at any given time. He ran a hand through his hair, causing sighs and noises associated with swooning fans. He smirked at their spineless nature and continued on, crossing in front of bewildered and intimidated taxi drivers, none of which acted in character.

Their silence made Seto's day as he sauntered on. His thoughts of blue eyes continued, and every once in a while, he would wonder where they(and she) were now. He had neglected their graduation, receiving his deploma in the mail. Mokuba had gone, and said that when he graduated, heads would be rolling if his nii-sama did not attend. He made a comment saying that she looked wonderful in the navy robe, since it made her eyes look so light in comparassion. He growled, wondering if he would have went just to see how she had looked.

He figured that he would have skipped it anyway, since he drew no attachment to the fiery brunette, rather, he enjoyed angering her to see the result. He knew there was such a thing as blue colored fire, but the flames and sparks in her eyes put them all to shame. Even he lowsy friends knew that her eyes held so much fire that they stayed away when she was angry.

Part of him believed that having that argumentative relationship with her as he used to helped him to be a bit more open. He once thought that she never played to win, but realized that she never intended to have an outright victory. Her words never left his head, and therefore, she always won.

He would never admit that to her. That was not his style.

Continuing through the busy streets, he hung a left, following the mosh pit of workers who commuted at various hours of the day. He felt more at home here than he did in the crowded halls of high school, yet work was not his current destination or objective. After smashing an entire hotel room due to its color scheme, he was headed for a bar.

Thinking about her left him all hot and bothered, because while he enjoyed rattling her cage, the mere thought of her did that to him. It took a great deal of skill to do that, and if she was more of a duelist, he would not put it past either of them to make careless mistakes because of the relationship they possessed.

He sat down at the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey, which he downed quicky, only to demand a second.

The bartender nodded and attended to him quickly and with the utmost professionalism. Apparently, the Corporate Executive Officer realized, he was not the only one who wished to indulge himself at this bland hour of the afternoon. After an hour of miscellaneous drinks, he realized that the man who had served him was leaving.

He laid a roll of American money in the man's direction, surprising him. The man took it, nodded to show his thanks and went into the back room. He heard discussion between the man and someone he took to be a spirited young woman. In the man's swift dialect, he heard 'whatever he wants,' and 'no payment otherwise.' The young woman answered curtly, entering the bar area, only to get mobbed by masses of men, young and old.

He looked up at her, noticing her chocolate hair that hung to her shoulderblades, and her edgy bangs that shielded her eyes. She was dressed well, professionally, but her well defined curves made her professional dress look almost racy. Her blouse was tight, as it should be, and her black skirt fit her like a glove, ending tastefully above the knee.

Shaking his head, he counted on the whiskey for making him stare at the girl as if she were meat. "Vodka," he said distinctly as she passed by. She said nothing, nodded, and reached upward. He smirked, taking into account that he only liked Russian Vodka. Should she pick any other, he would make sure she never worked in Manhattan again.

The young woman reached up for the bottle that cost more than he was sure she made per week, skillfully reaching for a shot glass at the same time. Another man yelled for some mixed drink. He eyed her back skeptically, looking to see what action she would take. She reached for another glass as she poured his drink, replaced the Vodka back on the shelf, and set it delicately before him.

He looked up at her, and stared.

Those eyes.

Those** eyes**?

Yes, his mind countered, those eyes.

Memories of Duelist Kingdom, Battle City, Virtual Realities, school, and just about everything he had ever known about the girl with those eyes spiraled back to him in an instant. He felt himself sobering up quickly, and solved that with the Russian Vodka she had just poured for him.

When he could string together coherent thoughts, he watched he pour other drinks for the mob of men, all of whom tipped graciously. He caught her every so often, requesting a different drink to throw her off. He'd ask for things that would require her to determine what his preference was, and if she asked him, she got no reply.

He wondered if she recognized him. If she did, she did not want to jeopardize her job by socializing with him. He always knew she was smarter than she let on. He looked at her placidly as she set down the drink before him, a Washington Apple, it was called. Hell, he knew he hated the state of Washington, so the drink was probably just an excuse to get his less than sober mind bitching about things that did not concern those eyes.

Taking a single sip, he nearly spit it out, obviously disgusted at the taste. _She_ was already gone, otherwise he probably would have spat it at her. She came back a moment later, noticing the distaste on his distinguished features as he eyed the glass.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Kaiba?"

He looked up at her. "There Goddamn is," he said, looking into her eyes. They were dark, too obedient for his liking. He liked her angry, fiesty, and spirited(in all ways that required no verbal communication). She may have the ability to control her emotions, but he was too drunk to keep himself under control, and therefore, he would bring her down as well. "Gardner, what the fuck is this drink?"

"What you ordered, Sir," she said gently. "Something else, perhaps?"

He threw the glass at the bar, wrecking a bottle of rum that was obviously expensive. "What do you think?" He snarled at her.

From the back room, another voice, most likely her boss if tones said anything called to her, "Tea, that one's coming out of your check! Now clean it up and take care of your customers!"

She looked at him, the beginnings of anger on her face, but suddenly, it disappeared, as if it had never illuminated her face in the first place. "Mr. Kaiba, what would you like?" She asked, before bending down carefully to attend to the spilt rum and pick up the broken glasses. She immediately dropped them in the sink, pulling up her sleeves to wash the smell off her hands. She grimaced at an offending piece of glass that had sliced her hand, wrapping it up in a handy amount of tape that was stashed beneath the bar to hinder the bleeding.

He smirked. "Nothing your capabilities could allow you to create," he said, before giving her an amused smirk that was nastier than the one before.

She said nothing, but he could read what she was thinking. He knew that she knew he was drunk. And somehow, he figured that was alright. She, surprisingly resisted the temptation of one of her rants, or her typical angry reactions. Not even a glare was cast, and that just was not good enough!

"I would have thought you would have gone off on my now, Gardner, It isn't like you."

The young woman gave him an intent smile, lacking sarcasm in general. That only pissed him off more.

She looked up at him from the bar again. "Tequila? Margarita?" She asked gently.

"No," he growled fiercely.

Acting as if she had yet to hear him, she pulled down the most expensive bottle of tequila, grabbed a lime, as well as a few other ingredients, and sea salt, which she poured upon a cutting board on the counter. She mixed it like a pro, then fixed the edge of the drinking glass with a perfect dusting of sea salt before pouring the mixed drink into the glass.

She set it down on the bar in front of him, but closer to her.

"I told you, Gardener, I don't want-"

The woman picked it up and downed it instantly. "It wasn't for you," she said, no hint of her Japanese heritage shining through her voice. She drank like a pro, and it shocked his drunken self.

"So you finally talk to me Gardner." He tapped his chin once, and smirked at her. "S'm Rum," he said, his cold demeanor shining through despite the slur.

Her hands lowered to her hips. "Can you even stand?" She asked him, in a tone associated with a mother.

"You ain't my mother."

To this, she responded not, choosing actions to ring clearer than words in his less than coherent state. She merely cleaned up the bar around him, reached out to take the lone shot glass, an empty one, and suddenly, he had grasped it in his. She said nothing to this either, perhaps for fear of losing her job, or perhaps she wanted to hold his hand. He honestly had no idea, and since his logic had faded in his alcoholic excursion, the drunkard CEO laughed.

"You're definitely drunk," she said, taking in the overall picture of him.

"Yeah, and if I could get your eyes outta my head..." He said, rocking slightly, "I wouldn'ta had to ruin that hotel room 'n then I wouldn'ta come here."

She smirked, careful not to take advantage of the man. Obviously she was troubling him, and she needed to fix that somehow. "Bad day, huh?" She said, leaning casually across the bar. Another customer barked an order at her, which she fullfilled without missing a word that came from the proud ex-champion as he spun a web of his sucky life until present.

He was a loudmouth when he drank, and he was hardly able to keep his eyes off of her. She figured that this slightly more... tolerable Seto Kaiba was made possible by the double shot of that Russian Vodka he treasured in his last drink, and partially because he never said anything about how his life sucked to anyone.

When she finally looked at the clock, she realized it was well past dinner, and since her co-worker said he had been there since four, she figured it was time he began to sober up.

"Coffee?" She asked him, looking over his obviously shaken form.

He nodded and she handed him a black brew, Colombian to boot. Within ten minutes, she noticed his usual attitude to reawaken inside him, and a simple coolness take over. He was back to being his usual, business savvy self, and to be completely honest, she could not decide if she liked the drunken, more insecure Kaiba, or the in-control asshole she used to fight with in high school.

"How's Mokuba?" She asked, after a moment of silence was spent cleaning up the bar.

The older man looked at her, his midnight blue eyes picking up the glint of the dimmed lights of the bar. "Fine."

Humming to both herself and her customer in reply, she cleaned the area of the bar used to make drinks as she thought about what he had said. "He's grown up a lot since I saw him last year at Graduation. The magazines here love to talk about him and Rebeca's secret affairs." She continued, "None of it is true because Hopkins is obsessed with Yugi."

A smirk crossed his features. Yugi... had she mentioned him before? His mind had no ability to recall, but a feeling in his stomach said she had not. Had a rift finally formed between the cheerleader and her boyfriend? It would be about time, since he knew that she was obviously too good for the porkupine-headed kid and his nerd hurd of friends.

"Ahh, so that's how Mokuba keeps his cool about it. I suppose Yugi isn't interested in her, but you, of course," he said casually, obviously trying to lead her into saying things that she could possibly regret, and others he could use to his advantage.

Without thinking twice about it, she responded. "Oh, no, he loves me," she said sarcastically, falling pointedly for his trap, in order to seal the deal, "That's why he proposed to her a month ago and she's four months pregnant with _his _ child."

Midnight blue eyes widened to level with hers. They were of ice, and they were all business. "Did I mention that your eyes look better when you're angry?"

Light laughter traveled his way. "What, you like them lighter?" She shrugged. "It must be that icy interior you hide speaking, because I swore you trashed a hotel for being cerulean, according to that information you were spewing earlier."

His eyes held nothing but utmost sincerity. "And that is exctly what it is," he said. "I don't like cerulean because that's the color of your eyes when you look at Yugi."

There was a nod from her end of the conversation. "So you like looking at my eyes when I'm looking at you." She thought aloud. "Strange, how my eyes are this icy blue when you're the cold one, and your eyes are so dark... and yet," she said, a smile on her dark cherry stained lips, "You're nothing of the sort when you want to be."

"Don't make me look good, Gardner, you might find yourself out of a job."

She laughed without hesitation. "Puh-lease," she said, leaning distinctly closer to his face. "If I was afraid of losing my job, I wouldn't have doubled your shots without asking first."

A strange look passed over his features, as if he lacked the capability to decide to be angry or not. "Trying to make me drunk, Gardener?"

"I didn't have to," she retorted sassily, "You were the one who bought enough shots for a small army _before_ I started working today."

Silence passed over them, and for the first time, it was not akward. It could have been blamed on her less than ten minutes before her shift was over, or it could have been that Kaiba's word alotment had expired for the day. Either or, the two reflected on the fact that they had just had a general conversation.

A question, a burning question arose in his stomach. He knew she once harbored feelings for that other, taller Yugi, however his time had expired, and she had obviously moved on. Now he needed to know if the shorter midget was the recipient of feelings of the same. "Are you happy that he's going to be the father?"

"What?"

Her surprise made him smirk. He always enjoyed catching her off-guard, it kept him feeling on top of the game. A slight headache began to set in, but he ignored it at her expense. It was more fun trying to figure out what she would say.

"Are you happy that Yugi will be the father of Rebeca's child?"

She smirked. "Honestly, I think they're perfect for each other."

"You don't resent that your former love fell for someone less qualified for the affection than you?"

"Now you're trying to piss me off again," she said accusingly.

Shrugging, he took a final sip of his coffee. "It didn't work before, so I figured you wouldn't mind my provoking," he said, a trace amount of amusement flickering in his eyes. She closed the bar up, exited the room for a moment and returned with a purse and a quilted letterman's jacket containing all types of patches from dance competitions and festivals.

He stood up, realizing that the bar closed early on Mondays, surprisingly even in New York City.

"What, kicking me out, Gardner? Now this is definitely your last day working here. The manager will never-"

"No."

This earned her a bewildered look. "What are you talking about?"

"You asked the question, Kaiba," she said simply. "The right person hasn't come along for me. Afterall, things between us have to be very different than with anyone else."

"Like having ice blue eyes for one." They ended up heading south, the opposite way from which Kaiba had come. The streets were desolate, and he was surprised that she would walk these streets in the dark.

"If that's the drunkard you talking, you should shut him up now."

"I don't have MPD," he said angrily. "I'm not your little ex-boyfriend."

"Well, if my little ex-boyfriend didn't get some snotty-ass little girl knocked up at seventeen, he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of me leaving his sorry ass in the dust."

"Now there's the Gardner I prefer," he said, smirking at her. "Where are you going?"

"Home. I have a penthouse around here."

He stopped cold. "Penthouse? Since when do Yugi's friends have money, much less own a bar? You never advocated drinking, and you've never shown interest in business, so how the hell do you come into a fucking penthouse and own a Goddamn bar in Manhattan, of all places?"

"The same way I turned my best friend down so that I could have a better shot with his arch nemesis, and allowed him to try and get back at my by making some teenager pregnant."

"Yugi did it to get back at you?" Now this, he realized, would break the midget for good. Why was she telling him? Unless they had severed ties completely, thus making her a rather valuable asset to him beyond her addicting attributes both physically and mentally.

She nodded and walked foreward, taking a right on the sidewalk. "Of course he did, because I told him I didn't love him. If he hadn't poured out his heart to me in the mushiest way, I _might_ have tolerated it. Still," she said boredly, "I didn't want anyone in the way of my dream. Therefore, I told him I'd prefer to take my chances with the likes of you."

His eyes widened and he kept his eyes off of her. When he did sneak a glance, he realized that she had yet to blush. She held no sense of shame, and a very keen sense of pride. "The likes of me? Really Gardner, did you really think I'd settle with someone so beneath me?"

"I have an idea of the real world. I dance like hell and make a ton of money as a choreographer for squads and dance crews around the country. The bar's just a side gig. It's just a fluke you ran into me, since I'm never around."

"Joy," he retorted, nothing less than sarcastic. "Then why the hell did that man sound like your boss when I spilt the rum?" He bothered not with the trivial interests of denial, since neither of them were stupid.

She smirked. "Lenny likes to feel in charge, and since I'm never around, he does a good job."

They entered a large building, located at the edge of Manhattan. She said nothing about him following her to the elevator. Obviously he was curious, and lacked the ability to believe that she could survive- perhaps even dominate- the cruel world in which they lived.

He stared at her living space in a rather unprofessional way. It was surprisingly different than he had initially thought, lacking the color pink in the scheme. Instead, it was blue and white, two of his favorite colors. Apparently hers as well, judging by the way it seemed.

"The view is the best part," she said, dimming the lights she had barely flicked on. She walked to the eastern side and opened the blinds, revealing a completely illuminated skyline that extended into what seemed like forever. He looked at it, then at her.

"Since when have you become so.. tolerable," he concluded, for a lack of better words.

She gazed intently at the city that was still very much alive. "I've always been like this, no one's ever really stopped to think about what I'm like when I'm not cheering for Yugi."

"So you aren't such a baby." He stroked his chin. "I'll have to remember that for next time my virtual world goes bad."

He noticed her cringe before she steadied herself. "Whatever," she said in response. "So why did you follow me?"

"To find out who that arch-nemesis of Yugi's was that you obviously prefer."

She laughed wickedly, looking out at the city with a renewed intensity. "Don't make me kiss you, Seto Kaiba, because I have been told that I am rather addicting. You may not make it out of here alive."

"So I've been told. There's always a chance of death with you and your little chrones involved, Gardner, I believe I'll take my chances. Though I can't hardly believe that there's been a man worthy of your affection to date."

"Like I said, not that I've realized. Care to attempt to be the first?" Her seductive nature took over and he found his head buzzed as if he had indeed just re-drank those first few shots. He realized just why she was so damn popular at that bar. The men threw themselves not only at her curves, but at her attitude.

"Remember that I take all challenges issued."

"So you're somehow going to grow a heart, is that it?"

He glared at her, noting that her eyes were that color he longed to see them. They were truly the ice-blue that was a direct opposite to his own. "Perhaps we should explore how opposites attract." He sat down beside her, only to get another direct, and pointedly challenging glance his direction. "And I don't need to grow a heart. Didn't you tell the mutt that I had one? It's for Mokuba only, in case you missed the memo." He snarled at that hot and bothered feeling that had returned from before. Damn her, he thought. Damn her and her Goddamn ways to hell.

She must have been aware that she held all the cards this time. "If opposites attract like you say, I guess I'll just have to change all that Mokuba only crap, though your obsession with my eyes may have expanded your heart enough to let me in a little." She got a touch closer to him, so that she could move her head to position her lips directly above his.

He smirked and pushed his lips dangerously against hers, as though an animal had possessed him. He stopped after a moment to check if it had an effect on her. She licked her lips and was about to speak. "Téa," he said seriously, giving her breathless body an obvious response to his close proximity, "You belong to me."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, _Seto_," she said sarcastically, "While the prospect of ownership seems promising, I don't believe you've won me over just yet. After all, I haven't shown you what I'm made of."

"Are you trying to make me fuck you?"

She laughed. "If I was, we would have been in my bedroom hours ago." Her eyes danced in a spirited way, fueled with a lust that extended beyond the physical. He kissed her again, searching her eyes to find the same emotions he felt raging inside himself. She said nothing this time, searching his eyes as well, finding nothing she disliked.

She allowed him to pin her down into the couch and wondered just how long it would be before he said something. He was not a man of many words, but his fast-moving mind would give her insight as soon as he could put together what was going on. Either way, she knew what she liked, and she knew just as well as he did, that Yugi would never be enough man for her.

Affection was no object, as she knew that he was no idiot. He was not the type to go to a whore when he felt lonely. All his actions were for real, and that was mutual between them. His thoughts had already planned what would follow their actions, and if it were truly horrible for them, he never would have followed her home in the first place. Part of that made their relationship so different. Their arguments were for show, and apparently you always fight with those you really care about.

When he leaned down for a countless time, pressed a finger to his lips, only to get it kissed with the gentlest of kisses. She pulled him down by the collar of his trench coat and stopped before their lips met so to make sure her breath hit his lips with every word. She noticed his body's reaction to this sensation instantly. "You may hold the trump card when you duel, but I am a woman, and I hold all the cards when it comes to men like you who like spit-fires like me." He kissed her twice as hard as before, sucking on her lower lip before speaking against her lips.

"See, and I had always thought it was the shades of blue."

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Hope you liked, and please review!


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